


Bayojeanne Week Prompts

by Wolfie1991



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: Bayojeanne week 2017, Beach Day, Domesticity, F/F, Family, Fluff, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfie1991/pseuds/Wolfie1991
Summary: A collection of all my contributions to the latest Bayojeanne Week hosted on Tumblr, you can find the list and summaries below.Beach Day - Bayojeanne Week 1: Bayonetta wonders if its still a beach day if all she can see is the full moon and a pretty girl.Argument - Bayojeanne Week 2: Cat charms for good luck, she had once said but where was her good luck now?Death - Bayojeanne Week 4: Things in her life are fleeting and Jeanne fears the day she will leave the eye of the hurricane once again.Jealousy - Bayojeanne Week 6: Bayonneta and Jeanne’s cat are at constant odds and who will get the upper hand?Dancing With You - Bayojeanne Week 7: The world upstairs was filled with music and dancing witches but Cereza’s world had been lit with something altogether much more special.The Gates of Hell - Bonus day: Jeanne sips her drink and eyes Rodin with a contempt her alcohol level no longer lets her ignore. She has words for the ever mysterious proprietor and he, in turn, has answers that are hard to swallow.





	1. Beach Day

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Bayo doesn’t have her full memories, set between Bayo 1 and 2. (Technically part of Barren Grounds but is a standalone) 
> 
> Originally written for a Tumblr challenge, there are a couple more of these to go.

“You know, when you said to make time for a nice spot of beach leisure” Bayonetta commented, sitting down on her towel overlooking the fine sandy shores of Fort Tilden beach “I was thinking this was going to be more of a day thing and not a, you know, midnight rendezvous”

She much preferred the sun and the early afternoon heat, even with the bustle of large families, loud teens, sleazy bros and all those things, to bathing out in the shine of the August full moon. Few things in life manage to win over the simple luxury of sand, sun and surf which, unfortunately, was something Jeanne quite disagreed with. She rarely enjoyed getting pelted with the obnoxiously bright noon light and, truth be told, she burned easier than a marshmallow over a roaring fire.

Yet there she was in a ruby red bikini so well fitting and small, saying it was sinful was a ridiculous understatement but it wasn’t quite the well defined muscles on display that caught her eye and gave her a bad case of dazed breathtakingness.

Jeanne was guarded, well to say she was guarded was another ridiculous understatement. She was the kind of guarded that had come from years of being groomed for adversarial competition within the Umbra and literal centuries at Balder’s command and she wasn’t given to switching off. Her constant, relentless drive to never be caught in a moment of weakness left little space for the vast expanse of her softness to shine through.

But at that very moment in time, with the cold breeze of the night blowing in and the heavy, damp presence of the ocean pressing on them like an ancient deity, she was…

Relaxed

More than that, Jeanne was smiling at her in a way she rarely saw at present time but that flashes and pings of her lost memories told her she used to see it more often when the days of youth seemed endless and were filled with unlimited possibilities.

“Yeah?” She laughed, pure and light in a way that made Jeanne glow with breathtaking life and by God, Bayonetta didn’t think she could fall in love with her grumpy, neurotic and infuriatingly stubborn lover any harder but there she was, doing just that. “ I think maybe you should have asked instead of just blurting out a yes I get to see you in a bikini”

Cereza caught herself blushing like some shy maiden in a corny romance novel, an action that earned her a soft brush of the back of Jeanne’s hand on her cheek and a lingering peck. In any other day she would have grumped at her smug look but she decided to let her have it.

“Well, can you blame me?!” She defended, waving her arm towards the deserted beach. “Who on their right mind wants to get some sand on during the night? It didn’t even cross my mind as a possibility when I said yes.”

“Maybe it was just a ploy to get you alone and in a cute little pink number in a hard to access deserted beach” The tone was sultry in a way that lit all corners of her brain and the teeth nibbling at her jaw nearly made her combust then there.

But she didn’t like losing power games.

Ever. 

“Darling, your idea of romantic involves angel guts and letting me pin you to the wall.” The ensuing hard bite to her neck made her yelp in surprise and she good-naturedly shoved the other woman from her.

“Talk about ruining the mood, Cereza” She said while she slumped back on her own towel but the soft contentment was still all there in her voice “ Fine, maybe I didn’t bring you here to have my wicked way with you. Truth is…”

The pause was heavy and Bayonetta knew at that very second this was something more important to her lover than she was letting on. “Truth is, we used to this somewhat regularly.”

“Back in Vigrid?”

A nod was followed by a bout of silence that normally signified Jeanne was accessing less than pleasant eras in search of more pleasant memories.

“I used to come out with mother to train when the moon was full, off the coast of Spain and to hang out with my proper Umbra friends in the Portuguese beaches that were about as warm as a glacier to the face and…”

She snorted and ran her hand through her long, platinum hair. “I used to meet you by the little beach near the waterfall grove in the mountains, you see, fairly regularly.”

Bayonetta perked up and leaned on one arm towards her. “But one day you were, for reasons to this day I don’t know, bathing a ways away from that and I was sprinting through the forest in my lynx form.”

She bit her lower lip to hide a smile and Jeanne rolled her eyes at her. “At least do me the favor of bursting into laughter *after* I tell the full story.”

“Anyway, there I was energetically attempting fitness when I run into you.”

“Naked. Literally” She mumbled the last part but it was too late as Cereza had started laughing and even in if it had been a humiliating moment for her, in a way, it was still a funny story.

In distant hindsight of course.

“You fell with all the grace of a sack of rocks back into the stream and I right with you. When I noticed you had 0 clothes on your person, I did what any flustered teenager would and well ran like Jubileus was on my heels in what you described as a ‘huff of red fur and whiskers’” She finished, raising her arms to do visible air quotes as Bayonetta wiped tears from her eyes and complained about getting sore abs.

It hadn’t been her most graceful moment, she had to admit but she had noticed she had ended up splayed on the warm, tremendously naked Cereza and Jeanne had only been 16 with a crush the size of Sheba’s left buttock. She ran and didn’t do so with the flowing beauty of the Umbra (more like with the clumsy flapping of a cat caught with their tail on the door).

After wiping her eyes one final time and putting her glasses back on, she turned to her slightly embarrassed companion. “What a dashing gentlelady, giving me privacy at the first peak of my ankles.”

“I’ll have you know a lot more was on show than your ankles! What I have never known is why in Paradiso’s heavenly blight were you even *there*, naked, bathing of all things.”

Bayonetta frowned for a second and bit her lip as a mental worm wiggled in her brain. There was an inkling of something, of a feeling that was fleeting and diaphanous but there was something to it that felt important. If she thought hard enough to untangle the murky waters of her past, there was a ping full of emotional impressions… wanting freedom, wanting to be away from Luna and it’s occupants, of having the simple pleasure of indulging in a thing just for the heck of it.

“I…” She started, closing her eyes tightly in frustration at not being able to yank a full, coherent thread of thought. “I was trying to be by myself a little bit, to get some fresh air.” Locking eyes with Jeanne’s own, she finished with a shrug. “ I guess.”

Jeanne nodded tersely and looked back onto the ocean. “After the incident, I apologized rather profusely, both for running you over and for running away after that.”

At the giggle that sounded from the other towel, she knew she was never hearing the end of it till some planar Deity actually managed to finish off the world. “Laugh it up, laugh it up.”

”You used to love going out to the small beach by the waterfall at night and so did I. It was a sort of neutral ground badlands, hidden away from most people, which made served our purposes quite well.”

She got up and breathed in the damp ocean breeze. “I know you prefer the sun now but… I quite like it away from the bright, heavenly light. Makes me feel safer, has good memories where I’m not making an ass of myself.”

Cereza stood next to her and grabbed her hand gently. The world wasn’t easy, never would be for them but at least under the glittering moonlight and the cloying smell of the water, Jeanne bloomed like a lunar flower and she would never stand in the way of that.

“Payback is a bitch, though” Before she could react, the flimsy red bikini top smacked against her face and the corresponding bottom was not far behind. “Catch me if you can!”

“Jeanne!” she laughed in a not small modicum of incredulity as the other woman bolted ass naked down the dune before rippling into her cat form and diving into the surf.

Without waiting another beat, she did the same and they ended up tangled by the water line in a mess of red and black fur that quickly devolved into warm bodies and wandering hands .

Bayonetta was not going to be the one pointing out that seeing her delectable everything move about with no clothes was not exactly the bitching payback Jeanne had figured it would be.


	2. Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Argument - Bayojeanne Week 2: Cat charms for good luck, she had once said but where was her good luck now?

The loud, methodical clack of the gun heels sounded like thunder in the empty grand amphitheatre of Ithavol tower.

“Oh Jeanne, I am always in awe of your obedience”

She stopped dead in front of him, staring with mindless passivity at the tall Lumen. A part of her wondered why she did so, wasn’t that quite odd for her?

Balder chuckled and turned his back on her to inspect the oppressive model of the Trinity of Realities that dominated the room. A thought buzzed insistently in the back of her head that he should not be so arrogant as to turn his back on her.

But why?

She looked down at her beloved set of guns as he kept pacing about, heels clacking almost as loud as hers had a minute ago.

“My little pets tell me you’re a terrible team player, Jeanne. Why is that? Could it be your Umbra side shining through, your kind has always been incapable of working together after all.”

He circled her, face still amiable and smile firmly in place despite the ill concealed venom of his words.

“Or is it a personal quirk, like your many many others? Your memories are rife with anger, anxiety and a dazzling spectacle of other less than savory things.”

Her eyes followed his motions around her and she glanced down at the dangling cat charms of her guns. Those were special, for reasons that she could not recall but the last time an angel had gotten into their heads to toy with the small charms, they were swiftly beheaded.

“I find it quite amusing how this works, that you’re so wily while away from me but not even a peep here. Where is the ferocious hunter, the legendary Jeanne d'Arc that so valiantly defended her clan, hmm?”

Without hesitation or any fear, he yanked out one of her guns and chucked it in the air like a juggler’s ball, just to catch it back again and repeat the motion.

“Tell me you can feel it too!” He kept tossing her gun as if it was worth no more than a cheap human trinket and the grating feeling intensified like a sea at the onset of a storm.“We are on the cusp of the Festival of Resurrection and I could not be happier!”

“Well…” Balder halted his careless tossing, catching the priceless weapon with expert dexterity and leveled it at her forehead. “ Except for one little detail, isn’t that right?”

The cool metal touched her forehead with the barest of pressure. She took no heed of his posturing and threats (were they really that empty?), instead focusing on the still swinging charm hanging from the hold.

Balder regarded her with insufferable haughtiness over the barrel of her beloved weapon still resting in the square center of her forehead.

“No matter,” the shot would open a gaping hole in her forehead that would land her in eternal damnation faster than she could blink but the imminent danger of it all failed to register. “My dear, sweet child will show up when we need her I’m sure. And when that happens, I want you to welcome my darling Cereza back.”

Cereza

The plume of the kitty hat was barely in her line of sight but it’s blue and bright colours seemed to attract her full attention. The charms the charms the charms

Cereza?

She blinked hard as the gun finally drew away, the droning of the sage a subtle backdrop to the building inferno in her head.

_Cereza_

“Oh?” Something was happening around her, with the sage, with the room but she missed it completely. What had he said? What did that mean. “Did I say the magic words, Ali Baba? Iftaḥ yā simsim?”

**Cereza!**

_“Hello, Jeanne!” Cereza said, while skipping closer to her friend. The halls were blissfully deserted at that time and no one seemed to be inclined to give them any grief on their way to the more secluded sections of the Grand Library. “Aww, you kept the kitty charm I gave you!”_

_“Good morning, Cereza. Of course I did, you gave it to me” She replied, giving her companion a small smile and touching the little figure at her belt. It hadn’t been the easiest day with her mother, the all powerful, mighty and revered Elder, breathing down her neck to master advanced forms of defensive magic well before her other peers but she always managed to make her day brighter._

_She wanted nothing more than to be around her friend  (…*friend*) and maybe get to teach her some new, nice things about the Umbra and magic. The joy in Cereza’s eyes when she had access to books and learning made the brightest of full moons seem paltry in comparison._

_Jeanne had taken all of those things for granted for many years, had taken her position and luxuries as absolute but in truth, they could very well evaporate without warning and then she’d be just as on the bottom rung as the outcasts and their more ill fitting members._

_Being a princess was a privilege and one that, the more she spent around Cereza, the more she felt she had not earned. Had she been given the same opportunities, Jeanne had the humility of knowing Cereza would far outstrip the coddled, nurtured, honed princess._

_All in all, she was best realizing her fortune and making sure her head always managed to fit indoors._

_“What did you manage to sneak in?” She was basically hopping on the tips of her toes, dancing around her like a fleeting butterfly that could not decide which colourful flower she was going to visit next._

_“I think you’ll like this one” Jeanne said, grabbing a chair from their usual desk deep in the recesses of the library. Theirs was the only section that looked to be regularly used and around them the dusty furniture and books encased in thick layers of spider silk and gross dirt multiplied as far as the eye could see._

_“It’s actually a really good compendium on edible fungi of the Iberian Peninsula and I th-”_

_“Why does it say ‘Common law proceedings’ then?”  She interrupted, pointing at the smooth leather tome and Jeanne stared down at her book._

_Fuck._

_It was the wrong book and now they had a stupid, boring law book instead of the interesting natural philosophy book she had found in the more popular sections of the library. Worst of all, their section was unused, to the best of their knowledge, but it was most likely because the only thing it housed were real estate records and medical reports of their many births._

_Jeanne frowned harshly at the offending volume and Cereza giggle, which earned her a heated look her way. Realizing her friend had goofed, she plucked the book from her hands and set it down on the polished table with a grand gesture as if it was the most interesting of manuscripts._

_“It’s ok! I don’t know what’s this book about but it sounds interesting.” At her serious nod, Jeanne chortled and sat down as Cereza waved her over enthusiastically._

_“It’s a book about laws, all the stupid things you can and can’t do and their corresponding punishment.” She said with a dismissive hand. Sheba, was it the most boring book she had the misfortune of being forced to study._

_Cereza cracked it open and settled her hand against the page to aid her reading. “It says here you can’t wear hmm red or purple gems to weddings?” She turned to her and Jeanne shrugged. She wasn’t the best law student and Matriarch Zia’s relentless monotone did not make her want to be any better._

_Not to be be daunted by the bone dry page, she kept leafing the book in search of something interesting to read._

_Jeanne leaned back on her chair and half looked at where her friend was landing. After some moments of quiet contemplation and low humming, Cereza lifted her head from the pages and pursed her lips._

_“What’s the worse punishment an Umbra can suffer?”_

_Jeanne, who up until that moment had been unconsciously studying how lovely Cereza’s long hair was, was caught by complete surprise but the intense look on her face told her it was a really serious question._

_“Well…” She started, scratching at her short platinum hair. “I guess you could say death is the worst cause well, you die.”_

_Cereza nodded, that indeed made sense. “But mother says that the worst thing that can happen to an Umbra is for her to lose her freedom and that’s why…”_

_She trailed off, realizing belatedly that her mother had been making a point about Rosa more than about crime and punishment. To her credit, Cereza took it in stride and nodded again, as she often did in thanks for an explanation._

_“I can see that, to be fair. Imagine spending all day, every day without being in control of your fate.”_

_And at that, Jeanne nodded right back._

 

The roaring in her head hit an explosive point and as the unseen but ever present shackles seared deep in her bones, her fists moved on their own accord.

Balder had been too close and too cocky to realize a thunderous punch was about to hit him and for the first time in a long while, Jeanne felt pure, unbridled satisfaction at the loud crunch her fist made on his face.

He skid across the floor, taking half the tiles with him. Balder hadn’t yet stopped careening and Jeanne was upon him with all 900 lbs of feline fury.

Her claws tore through easily hurt human flesh but her teeth clamped into hard muscle and fur. Balder quickly shook her off and went on a brutal offensive.

Once upon a time, Jeanne had prided herself on having honed her natural disposition for anger into a sharp, well calculated blade. But now, only the raw primal roar of her deep seated ire flowed from her and she was bent on burning the world with it.

If she had to turn herself into ashes, so be it.

Even Balder, a man whose temper was as stable as the rocks on the mountain, was meeting her brute force with just as much finesse.

He bit into her lower back and hurled her into the hard stone, leaving a large crater in her awake.

Despite her wounds, she tried to get from under the rubble as fast as she could and she managed to rise to her knees.

Jeanne could feel the shackles suffocating, searing, choking her. She should be reacting, grabbing her guns, charging him…

Something!

Blood dropped from her shoulder onto shattered rock and tile and she mustered the will to attempt motion once again.

The glimmering spear sliced through the air with a near soundless displacement and impaled her clean through the back, pinning her to the ground.

Her panic rose sharply for a moment and she pawed at the spear with feeble hands. Why resist? No matter how hard she looked, she could find no satisfactory answer and her fight or flight instinct tamed back into a complacent passivity.

“Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne… so that’s where you hide your terrible temper.” The pain was nearly unbearable and breathing was a chore nearly too insurmountable as fat droplets of blood ran down the blade buried into the ground. His heels sounded vaguely near her head but the world was dangerously muted.

“I should have expected no less from the pride of the Umbra.”

He was finally back in her field of vision, his gaudy boots not two feet from her face and she wondered in a breezy passing if he was going to stoop so low as to kick her when she was this helpless.

“But if you think you’re so clever that I don’t know full well that you have the location of your  _precious Umbran treasure_  squirreled away in that dysfunctional little head of yours.”

All of her muscles tensed like rocks and the shimmer from the glowing ropes on her skin nearly blinded her as she was forced to stare right into the stern oh so very familiar blue eyes of the last Lumen.

“I was surprised to encounter such pure devotion for her! I didn’t think you could produce emotions so positive, Jeanne.” He enthused, smiling around the deep gashes on his face but that did nothing to hide the steel in his eyes. “But that is exactly what betrays you. I need you alive and coherent more than I need the precise location of my darling Cereza or else I’d invade the little dark space that you hold so dear in your memories and extract it.”

His arm shot out and he grabbed the spear unceremoniously, making pain radiate all over her body. “With or without you still there at the end, do you understand?”

The extraction was slow and deliberate, the metal sliding through her ribs and organs with excruciating agony. If he wanted a reply from her, he didn’t show it as he glided out the room in a wave of light and brilliant feathers, leaving her behind to crawl somewhere she could heal before heaven’s ugly helpers flocked the room.

What he wasn’t counting on was that in the little dark space, lived the only memory that offered a handhold of sanity in the luminous flood of his influence.

The golden seal glowed bright in front of her iris for a second before fading into the darkness of the room but there was still life to be found on the grey eyes behind it.


	3. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things in her life are fleeting and Jeanne fears the day she will leave the eye of the hurricane once again.

“Just for reference, darling, I can hear you think from here.”

The low, sleepy mumble made Jeanne look to her right ( to where most of the covers usually resided) and she quirked her eyebrow at her lover. Cereza rubbed at her eyes and felt around the nightstand for her glasses, accidentally dropping them under the bed.

“Fuck on a stick.” She grumbled, digging herself out of her dragon hoard of quilts and leaning over her side of the bed.

Jeanne kept silent as Bayonetta, graceful as a drunk ostrich, tried to retrieve her precious glasses. It wasn’t going too successfully, judging by the flailing and muted curses coming from her beloved partner.

With a triumphant grunt, she settled back on the bed and continued smoothly. “What has you up quite so late?”

Jeanne laid her arms behind her head and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m sorry, I was not aware my absolute immobility and silence were quite so disturbing.”

Cereza snaked an arm around her naked midsection, which prompted an appreciative flexing of abs, and nuzzled against her clavicle. “But you see, it is because by this hour you’re usually your pretzel ballerina sleeping self all over my side.”

“It’s where the covers are, Cereza” She deadpanned, kissing her short hair to smooth over any ruffled feathers. She had learned to manage but, no matter the covers, they were definitely not on top of her ever.

“Regardless”, she waved airily and extended her arm to poke at her shoulder. “You sleep about as well as a cat on caffeine but this is odd even for you.”

Her tone turned soft and tender and she looked up at Jeanne’s exhausted eyes with gentle worry.“Tell me what’s wrong”

“I was just…thinking.” Bayonetta resisted the urge to sigh with worry but she only managed to divert it to a strong exhale through her nose. She knew as well as she knew herself that  _thinking_  with Jeanne always meant trouble, more so if it made her stare at the ceiling for hours on end on a school night.

“What were you spinning around obsessively on that smart head of yours?”

The silence stretched on for several seconds more and Bayonetta was about to lift herself up to look at Jeanne when a calloused hand threaded on her hair with the gentlest of touches, moving talented fingers to massage her scalp softly.

“About death and…about dying and how that throws our unbelievably lucky reunion to shit.”

In truth, it was something she always worried about, more or less every hour of every day with varying intensity. She hadn’t been counting on making it this long, worse she hadn’t been wired to make it so far.

She had been heir to the clan, was technically the Elder now, with no clan or court but one nonetheless. It was part of her core makeup to put the safety of others well before herself and it was the job of the Elder to make sure hers was the least important life.

The Clan, their culture, her sisters had to be protected at all costs and her life was a paltry sum compared to it.

Nothing had changed really, just the object of her priorities. Though, in all fairness she had always prioritised Cereza (perhaps more than she should) because nothing made her angrier than the Umbran injustice and cruelty towards someone who had not had any control of her circumstances.

“I’ve heard that does tend to happen” she replied in attempt to keep the mood as light as possible, nipping slightly at the hard muscle underneath her cheek which earned her another lingering kiss to her head.

“I was not supposed to be here.” Was the blunt follow-up, her tone worryingly truthful and absolutely terrified.

Cereza was at an impasse, caught in a situation so delicate approaching it badly would drive Jeanne further into whatever she was struggling with. Against all of her instincts of protectiveness that demanded she comfort her and stop her from feeling bad,  she remained quiet and waited for further explanation.

“I was sure the Clan Wars would be it for me but they weren’t, I was sure the hunts would definitely be it for me and then…”

She ground her teeth together in helpless frustration.”They weren’t! But everything was ruined and you were no longer around and I… I did what I could, which ended in a failure I was sure would kill me.”

Bayonetta held her close, Jeanne’s heavy breathing rattling against her cheek.

“The world was at it’s literal end, reality as we knew it was about to be destroyed and I gave my life as forfeit.” She finished, a note of bitterness colouring her voice and echoing into the darkness of the night.

The odds were ever stacked against and still, she had come out the other end alive time and time again. She wasn’t counting on it, had no plan for freedom, for life,  _for joy?_

Those had been foreign concepts for centuries and now, she was out in the big open pasture and she had no clue what to do.

Cereza listened and pondered on her words carefully. She wanted to intervene on that self destructive rant, wanted to hold her close and kiss her softly and tell her all was alright.

But was that really what she needed?

“What bothers you the most, then…is it that you think you’re on borrowed time.” She started, taking a leap of faith so valiant her heart hammered on her throat. It felt like reasoning with a spooked fawn, any odd movement would send her bolting into the wilderness“ Or that you have no clue what to do with relative stability?”

The hand on her hair massaged her scalp with increasingly more absent-minded movements till it stilled to a slow scratch.

Another long sigh that displaced her head still laying on her chest. “I keep waiting for the hammer to fall for the last time. I feel I’ve ran out of luck and opportunities, that all my good fortune was spent up just coming back from all of that.”

And now that she had Cereza, a home, a life that was her own. How long till that was snatched away from her? “I love you, so much… being here,  _now_  is absolutely not what I was expecting would happen.”

Bayonetta got up from the soft perch on her chest, her heart clenching at those words. There was no mistaking the utter sincerity of them and it skyrocketed her worries right into the redline.

“But I’m here and darling, let me inform you, you’re definitely stuck with me now.” She countered, running the back of her hand on her jaw with utmost tenderness. “You haven’t used up all the good things in life to stay alive, if anything you have earned them in triplicate.”

Jeanne furrowed her brows at her words, the notion sitting with an uncomfortable drop on her chest.

”You’ve been through so much, sacrificed everything for all of us, for me in particular. You get to reap those rewards.” She leaned in for a soft kiss, parting slightly to look into the stormy grey eyes of her somewhat decidedly better half. “I love you too and I’ll be here to remind you you gave so much, now you get to receive.”

Her words were gentle and uplifting but she couldn’t help thinking that all of the good things in her life were inevitably snatched away. Her life had a long track record of doing that but underneath it all, that notion started feeling less uncomfortable.

Receiving for once seemed like a positive thing to look forward to.

“As for not knowing what to do with yourself without purpose, take it from someone who has spent two decades adrift at sea” She twirled her index in the air, an old sign of theirs for Jeanne to lay down on her stomach. “The world is your oyster and you get to choose how you want to go about it.”

Jeanne did as she asked with a modicum of hesitancy, probably thinking the more good things she had the closer she was to having it all stripped away again. She swiftly straddled her narrow hips and bent down to kiss her shoulders, not leaving any space for her to change her mind. “Do what you want to do and you’re always going to be doing there right thing, love.”

Could it really be that simple? Exhaustion was minutes away from steamrolling her into a puddle of mush and Cereza’s heavenly, unfairly talented hands were making quick work of the tension on her back.

She managed a somewhat whiny but half way coherent agreement and Bayonetta chuckled, leaning down fully over her strong back to whisper in her ear. “You’re the best thing in this Trinity of Realities, darling, and I want you by my side for the duration, ok?”

Jeanne finally relented and nodded, twisting around to yank her lover down for a long hard kiss. “Ok, I think I can try that.”

Life wasn’t perfect, far from it, nor was this issue so neatly resolved as it would on a feel-good sitcom.

But

It was a start.  


	4. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bayonneta and Jeanne’s cat are at constant odds and who will get the upper hand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit of a buy-in, it features Artemisa, their daughter from my other fic Barren Ground Blooms in Change (I guess you really only have to know it’s their kid, basically but feel free to read!)

Jeanne had loved horses once upon a time. Lovely horses, big horses, light and springy horses. If it had hooves, a bad temper and could be saddled she liked it.

With the advent of modern technology and shackles that didn’t allow for the sort of long term care of an animal, she had found herself replacing her beloved horses with the roaring charm of motorcycles.

Angel Slayer was a bike all on it’s own category, extensively modified and of course, with more magic running through it than a young witch. That being said, sometimes the real world needed more finesse than what equated to a Mad Max chase gone off rails and for the times she needed to look like Ms. D’Arc, mild mannered teacher, other bikes had to do.

Her most recent purchase was a big and bulky touring bike with all the bells and whistles, in an attractive blue and black. It was a…compromise to get Cereza to ride with her and not keep getting detoured for her to flirt at humans.

For her cool teacher Jeanne days she had her tremendously fast streetfighter, slinky and aggressive that went from 0 to 60 in a staggering 2.6 seconds. By all standards, her mortal made pride and joy.

Only had one caveat. The passenger riding position.

Especially if that passenger was seven whole feet of legs, ass and overflowing charisma. 

To combat that, a sofa on two wheels was acquired and Jeanne couldn’t be happier. Umbra she was, true, but long travel with her streetfighter was like trying to eat angel flesh.

From her position on the curb, she gently buffed the gas tank while humming. It was a deliciously warm sunday and best of all, it was August which meant no kids to put up with (much as she loved them).

A raspy meow broke her peaceful groove and she set down the polish can and rag on the floor. A couple more faint sounds reached her and she followed it to the back of the alley.

“Little one, where are you?” She called in hopes the cat would keep on making noises.

The raspy meow intensified into a full blown distress call and Jeanne called forth her magic. She looked for any energy signature that could correspond to a cat and she found the source of the meow.

A drain grid had collapsed and a young cat was staring up at her, trying to climb the walls and constantly slipping. It was not yet an adult but no longer a small kitten either.

“ Oh no, I sure hope you’re not hurt.” She leaned down and reached into the maintenance shaft, dirtying up her work jeans and tank top beyond further usability.

Cat securely in her arms, she gave them a cursory inspection which revealed a he. He was skinny and was shivering harshly in her arms which made her worry intensify. Poor darling had to have been stuck for a considerable amount of time, if the dirt and mud on his cream and black fur was anything to go by.

“We’ll get you home, all cleaned up and maybe fed. How’s that?”

Her only response was a little dust mote snuggling closer to her.

 

* * *

 

“Cereza, we have a guest today!”

Bayonetta poked her head back into the kitchen from the pool patio outside and gave her a puzzled look. “ A guest? I doubt you picked up Luka out of the goodness of your heart, darling so who do we have?”

Out of the two of them, she was much more likely to invite other people over for tea or something of the sort whilst Jeanne preferred to go out with her other friends.

“I found a dapper young gentleman in some dire straits on the Bettencourt’s ridiculous drain grid and plucked him from his predicament.” Said gentleman purred gently, eyes closing occasionally in clear exhaustion. “ I went in with him to Dr.Carter and she said he just needed some TLC. Not chipped either, a shame.”

“A cat? An actual cat?” Cereza crossed the threshold proper and looked at the muddy ball of fur in her arms. “Poor thing… Come on then, if we managed transdimentional toddler versions of ourselves, I’m sure he’ll be in the best hands.”

Famous last words

* * *

 

His human was just the sweetest and incredibly well trained (if he could say so himself) but she wasn’t the sharpest claw in the paw.

She kept willingly walking into the water spouting death trap, especially with the annoying one.

Did she not know that having no scent profile was *dangerous*? He thought he had broken her out of that habit with the departure of the other one but that had proven to be just temporary.

What if she went outside only wafting the pungent fragrances humans had, any other cat would not know who she belonged to.

They could even have the gall to approach and rub on her legs! It was a situation he could not stand for.

He trotted to the location of the watering hole, she had been there long enough and he had to improve her habits.

The annoying one noticed him first from her relatively higher position on the turbulent pond. The mating procedures, adorably goofy as they were among humans ( they didn’t even rub facial fur), were well underway and she narrowed his eyes at him.

“Jeanne, you keep not closing the door and now the dust mote is here to cockblock again.”

He meowed, loud and articulate as he would to unruly kittens and got up on his legs to look at his human. They didn’t understand much of their nuances so he had to employ baby talk.

“Heya Golem, what do you need hmm?” She rose up to lay her hand on his head and he stretched as best he could to meet it.

He purred and rubbed his head on her wet hand, getting it scratched by soft nails. “My treasure, did you just want some attention?”

Her colony mate ( who more often than not, stole his human’s attention) sighed and got up abruptly, spilling water over his immaculate and well groomed coat.

His angry yowl did nothing to faze her. This was why she was the annoying one.

“Just so you know, it’s weird that you baby speak in french to the diminutive Auditio of Chastity"

He ran between her legs while she was trying to find a towel and swiped at her feet. As she turned to curse at him for clawing at her ankles, he was encased in a fluffy towel himself and lifted off the floor.

“My heart, don’t be so mean to Cereza. She’s just grumpy I’m giving you attention” His human had saved the annoying one from swift and brutal discipline but he found it hard to be mad when she was rubbing his now messy fur.

Snuggling into his human, he purred his agreement.

* * *

 

The sun on the outside was luxurious and he basked in it for the better part of the afternoon, as it was proper.

He was about to turn for the fifth and final time when the door opened with a near silent woosh that he was highly attuned to.

Oh, his human had to be home! Bolting upright, he meowed in her direction so she knew he was there.

The inside was pleasantly cool and he purred expecting to be greeted in the grabby manner humans usually did but no one came forward.

He sniffed the air, trying to figure out who could be in the colony but it revealed nothing but dust and their wafting herbal scents that lingered around the enclosed space.

When his cursory survey was finished, he was about to take a turn to bite his food when a low rumble sounded from somewhere he couldn’t pinpoint.

Assailants! Intruders! His human could be in danger!

He arched his back and hissed in the general direction of the noise. The rumble increased in intensity and darted around everywhere.

Hissing as loud as he could, he held on steadfast under the onslaught of noise.

His bravery held out until the very moment a gargantuan beast landed in front of him and roared with all it’s teeth.

It wasn’t his most dignified moment, the jump up to the top of the tall fridge but he was clearly outmatched and hoped beyond hope his dear human would not be harmed.

“Cereza! Don’t scare Golem like that!” His human was defending him from the beast and he marveled at the ingenuity and heart she had. “Oh little one, come here she cannot harm you”

He was scooped from the fridge, heart thundering and fur sticking all over the place and as the assailant bled into the annoying one, he snuggled into the warm bosom in a huff.

A cat of his status always chose to ignore the mocking noises humans made but he felt a smug satisfaction (something humans seemed to always do) at the scolding his human was giving her colony mate.

What better place to be, than purring away on a soft chest.

* * *

Bayonetta had a feeling…

No!

She was absolutely sure the young idiot Jeanne had picked up from the street about two months ago kept trying to sabotage her.

Why else would he monopolize Jeanne’s attention? He was jealous, so *jealous* that she was there first.

Was she too proud to admit she was badly losing a war of wits to an obnoxiously adorable Siamese knockoff? Yes, definitely she was.

Golem was the featherless embodiment of Castitas, of that she was more than sure. Why else would he demand attention at the most idiotic of times?!

If she got home and Jeanne was already relaxing after a long day, usually by sitting on the seat that got most of the afternoon sun, she could well forget getting any sort of affection the little butt wouldn’t oppose to.

Oh and Jeanne just coddled him to hell and back, softly murmuring to him in French and making fun of her for getting mad at a young adult cat.

His smug be-whiskered snout was highly unbearable.

She got him good right back ( oh the illusion charm over the pool board had been a riot even if Jeanne had yanked her ears for it) but invariably, her lover always sided with him and what was he good for? Shedding and being Lord Demandypants, that’s what.

Part of her wanted to get an even more obnoxious pet just to annoy the living crap out of the discount-store siamese but there was a chance they would ally against her sex life and that wouldn’t do.

“Jeanne?” She asked, her exasperation hitting an unprecedented, never before seen level.

“Yes?” She replied with a brush in hand, not even looking her way as the idiot purred and kneaded their (fucking) expensive duvet.

“Not to make this awkward but I was trying to seduce you, oh I don’t know, a minute ago?” With a big measure of success too, her mistake had been to exit the room for a hot second to fetch the harness from the pool lounge.

Time the Cardinal Virtue Of Chastity had used to slink into the room and enthrall her previously very willing partner.

“It will literally just take a minute, Cereza. Last I heard, silicone erections lasted a long time.” The appreciative inspection Jeanne cast her way was the only thing that saved Golem from having a nasty encounter with her beast within.

“I promise I’ll even put my darling little cream puff in quiet time.”

Bayonetta tossed her arms up in defeat and stood there awkwardly holding a dildo aloft with her crotch. “Fine but I expect compensation!”

Didn’t save the furry brat from having his food eaten right in front of his face from her cat form but that, she kept to herself.

 

* * *

 

The littlest one was perhaps the greatest delight of his life. She was remarkably young, as humans measured things, and she was just now starting to realize her own strength.

Her ever increasing life skills usually came at the expense of his tail or ears. She was strong, far stronger than she looked but he was making good progress in teaching her manners.

Well, it was a struggle for her to not slobber on his tail but it was endearing. His human’s cub had been contributed by the annoying one but so far, that had yet to show, a fact that pleased him even further.

Said little one was sleeping on the other end of the crib like a kitten while he kept guard on the fluffy pillow nearby. She was hard pressed to do so and was about as nocturnal as a bat and he saw no end of her parents shuffling into the nesting room looking like shambling dogs in the middle of the night.

The late summer breeze wafted in from the open windows and he purred at the coolness of it on his face when whatever was pinned on them fell with a loud smash.

A low whimper started from the human kitten, most likely disturbed by the crashing object. Human made things were always so fragile. He snapped to high alert, inching closer to the little human and giving her hair some gentle grooming.

She quietened down and he nuzzled her soft head in reward, purring all the while which earned him an interested gurgle.

They were both about to settle down again when an odd light burst forth from the window. The little one snapped in its direction and she sniffled again.

He started grooming the fine human fur once more when the jangle of metal sounded on the ledge and he lifted his head.

A red beast cooed and twisted it’s grotesque head like a toothy pigeon, hopping into the room with a curious spring to its step.

He growled loudly at the approaching intruder, daring it to come and further but it paid him no mind. His small kitten was crying in earnest as the metallic jangle sounded closer to the nest.

Too close.

Golem was a cat that knew a serious threat when he saw one. He had to protect his humans, had to keep them safe.

Yowling as loud as he could and puffing out his fur, he positioned himself with his ears pinned back between the little one and whatever mangled predator was in front of him.

It glanced in his direction at the noise but was undaunted in its path, leaving large burnt gauges on the floor.

With a massive paw, the thing was going to try to knock down the nest but Golem wasn’t about to allow that.

With a decisive jump, he attacked the ugly dog thing with all his bravery.

Bayonetta heard her little girl cry and Golem making his usual mess of things, which had her reluctantly waking up.

Jeanne was out fulfilling her obligations as a witch, after all the ever present clock of their infernal fate never stopped ticking.

Umbra she was, the dark night and all that but she was also half Lumen and nothing quite replaced  the sun. Plus all the cutest mommy and me videos did not adequately prepare anyone for the event of shoving the littlest Umbra from a narrow pelvic canal.

A bright, heavenly light spilled the door to the nursery and her eyes snapped fully open, tiredness fully banished and she bolted into a full sprint.

As she yanked open the door, the Fairness was in the process of striking a flaming paw on the aggressively strong ward. A purple shimmer materialized into existence that rebuffed the Dominion back with a strong shove.

Most surprisingly, Golem had jumped quite literally to Artemisa’s rescue in a daring flight of courage. He had landed on the big head and scratched and bit at the staggered angel, making them shake their head.

Before she could do some real damage, the draconic angel bit on the young cats arm and tossed him to the ground. Oh, now they’d done it!

With several well placed summons and a harsh volley of bullets, they fell down into a mess of halos and angel bits she’d have to clean up. All in all, not too many damages to the nursery that they’d have to make up some random story to a contractor to fix it.

She knew Artemisa was safe albeit in a very, very bad mood but Golem had taken a hard hit trying to protect his charge. Her heart clenched at his arm injury, the bite deep and ugly.

“Come now, oh principality of courage. We’ll tell Wes you got into a fight with a really big dog.” She scooped him up as gently as she was able and he meowed in distress in Artemisa’s direction. Bayonetta had to admit it took massive courage to stand up to a second sphere angel and even after getting beaten up, he tried to make sure the little one was safe.

Fortunately Dr.Carter did house calls and double fortunately, Jeanne would only hear about it when it was resolved. The cellphone conversation about this would not be easy.

The good doctor was baffled at his injuries and was going to take him to the practice for a closer look. She had to do x-rays but his soft tissue damage looked worse than what it was and she was able to stitch him up on site.

As Dr.Carter set him in the carrier, she looked at him straight in his good looking blue eyes and nodded.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

 

* * *

“How many expensive cashmere pillows draped with Merino wool does a cat need?” Bayonetta wondered for the fifth time that week, as her most beloved kept piling on finery beneath the obnoxious albeit very daringly brave Walmart brand feline.

The answer right now was on 4 and she had to guess it wasn’t the last she heard of it.

To Jeanne, he was the most lionhearted of beings on the planet and she nearly cried three times in Dr. Carter’s office even though she assured her it was just a ding and nothing a little plaster and bandages wouldn’t fix.

Showing her the clearly only hairline fractured arm on the X-ray had prompted a stricken but still very stoic pair of glistening eyes and even the good doctor was looking at Bayonetta with something that was bordering on panic.

Had he stayed overnight to be observed? Yes. Had Jeanne slept a singular wink? Of course she hadn’t

He returned home the next day a little sluggish from his fashionable fentanyl patch but bright eyed and vivaciously blabby, a cute vet wrap bandage in a shocking bright pink and ruby red encasing his arm. Wes had mumbled something about the vet wrap matching her riding gear with a colour to her cheeks Bayonetta had ticked as a blush.

And now there they were, the unbearably smug cat, the little human on her front sling and herself, fielding status report calls every hour from one very worried witch. Her classes had to be going swimmingly that day.

All in all, she couldn’t complain. He was willing to risk life and limb for her daughter and… They had reached a sort of understanding.

She reached over into the crib where he and his mountain of pillows currently resided and scritched his chin.

Huh, maybe he really wasn’t all that bad after all.

( Maybe she could get Luka to toss himself in front of an Applause and Jeanne would make peace with him as well)


	5. Dancing With you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world upstairs was filled with music and dancing witches but Cereza’s world had been lit with something altogether much more special.

There was a faint sound that filtered through the upper levels into the moonlit training room down below. The skylight was the only source of illumination at that hour, the torches had long since been put out and the full moon provided plenty of light into the ring.

If Cereza strained, she could almost hear the music of the Winter Ball and imagine the worthy denizens of their home as they danced and twirled with their respective partners. The joy and laughter upstairs must have been something amazing to see.

She slumped further down the pillar she was standing on, the ice cold ground hitting her legs suddenly and making her flinch a little.

It was cold like Inferno and her breath misted, settling uncomfortably on her lungs. At fifteen years of age, she had enough magic in her that she most likely wouldn’t get sick but when she was younger, her birthday always meant sickness and fever.

Cereza, not for the first time, wondered what would be like if she was allowed to attend all the balls, dances and nice things the witches did.

Jeanne tried to describe them as best as she could, finding her books with illustrations of glittering coats and flowing dresses but she was sure the reality had to be so much more stunning.

It was a silly thought, that she would ever be able to go to such an event but didn’t stop her from dreaming of attending.

Dreaming of going down the crystal steps Jeanne talked about, being announced to the whole room, like she mattered, like she was important and everyone would stare in awe at her during her descend.

She’d meet her partner, Jeanne of course, in a stunning midnight blue dress or perhaps a finely tailored suit and just…dance the night away. At the end of it, like in mummy’s stories, she’d lead her out into the gardens and maybe even finally find the courage to kiss her under the moonlight.

She snorted in self pity and hugged herself closer. Dreams were nice but they did nothing to fix her more pressing issues, like winter was coming into full swing and the keeper of the laundry room was paying way too much attention lately. If they’d just give her the old things…

She sighed and rubbed her arms, the chill making her back contract painfully. She’d have to fashion herself a new sweater with the old covers she had found the other day or else she’d freeze in the coming months.

That’s what she got for taking time from doing clothes upkeep to train with Jeanne but their afternoon had been so good. Except when Jeanne had accidentally grabbed her boob to push her away and they both had stumbled into each other which had led to lots of awkward apologies.

Maybe she should go see her mother, at least that way she’d forget the cold for a bit and maybe mummy would tell her of the balls she used to go to.

The sound of heeled footsteps, light but decisive and commanding, the cadence of someone who knew exactly where they wanted to go broke the distant sounds of music and Cereza panicked.

Who on Paradiso would be down here at this hour?! If they caught her in here again, they’d shove inside a cell for who knew how many days. Upside of that would be actual decent meals guaranteed three times a day but the scorn and hate were too much for her and also, most importantly, no Jeanne.

She was halfway through her bolt hole, a well hidden latch that led to the sewers, when a very familiar and rather welcome voice called out.

“Cereza? You here?” Jeanne said, striding in all the glory of the heir to the throne and Cereza was breathless at the scene.

Her hair was down in a loose braid, glittering jewels and gold woven in to make it look like she was sparkling all on its own and the red silk dress fit her so well, layers of white and golden ribbons adorning the cloth so perfectly Cereza couldn’t but think of her as the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

“Yeah…you kinda scared me. I was thinking it was one of the guards.” She approached her friend and Jeanne looked so ridiculously out of context in the dimly lit training room, a beautiful princess adorned with the most precious jewels, ready to grace the masses with her presence, it was almost a sin.

Though Cereza, lowly pariah whose clothes were mostly all patches, was so very glad she was there.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought…” Jeanne blushed a bit and looked down, kicking some dirt around bashfully. “Just thought the party was not the same without you.” She smiled at her and Cereza’s heart sped up

Oh… Had the guest of honor of the most important social event of the year just sneak away to be with her?

“So I decided to mix them both. You and the party.” With those words, she fished a small blue gem from her Umbran watch and laid it over her palm.

Pouring a little magic into it, the jewel levitated into life and a soft melody started playing. Cereza instantly recognized the tune but her joy was short lived when a gloved hand extended her way.

“I, er, I don’t know how to dance and I’ve no clothes and…” Jeanne shook her head and chuckled, approaching her slowly and laying her hand on the small of Cereza’s back. “…my butt is cold” She finished lamely, her cheeks burning a bright red at their closeness but she didn’t fight her friend’s invitation for a dance.

“That is most inconvenient. Maybe a spot of dancing will fix points one and three?” And before Cereza knew it she was being led around the circle with only minimal clumsiness on her end, though certainly she owed that to the expert dancer seeing her through the paces and not any inherent talents on her end.

After a while, she had gotten the hang of about part of the rhythm, enough that she wouldn’t be too foolish at it. All of her newly gained skills evaporated and she fumbled again when Jeanne brought her that much closer to her body, the distance between them now pretty much nonexistent.

Wow, up close her lips had the most attractive shade of red and Cereza found she couldn’t stop looking at them. She wondered how she had failed to notice how pretty Jeanne’s lips were up until that very moment.

They looked so soft and silky and all she wanted to do was lean in and see if they actually felt like that too…

A boom cracked in the night and the teens looked up, spell seemingly broken. A shower of glittering fireworks filtered through the skylight, signaling midnight.

“Seems we’ve danced the night away, just like in the books.” Jeanne said in a husky whisper, breaking their silence and biting her lower lip as she looked into Cereza’s blue eyes.

It was basically now or never.

“This was so much fun. I didn’t even tell you, you look beautiful…I mean! You are always beautiful but that cleavage, wait no the necklace…the necklace goes well with the dress…” Cereza would have done better headbutting the Elder at that moment instead of opening her stupid, dumb mouth.

Before she could further embarrass herself, a soft pair of lips were on hers and all rational thought fled her that very second.

It was fleeting and altogether too short, no more than closed eyes and a press but it left them both slightly out of breath.

“Thank you. I picked it out just for you.”

They were a hundred times softer and silkier than they looked.

 

* * *

 

In the cells nearby, Rosa smiled softly.

Her little Cerecita was growing up.


	6. The Gates of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne sips her drink and eyes Rodin with a contempt her alcohol level no longer lets her ignore. She has words for the ever mysterious proprietor and he, in turn, has answers that are hard to swallow.
> 
> Done for the Bonus Day of Bayojeanne Week 2017 - The Gates of Hell

It’s not that Jeanne was a princess. No, the fact she had grown up in the lap of luxury of the most powerful Clan in the realm was not what made her frown with carefully cultivated disgust at having to be hanging around Cereza’s favorite hellhole of a bar.

The Gates of Hell, for all its fame, had sparse customers at all times. Groups looking to be dangerous fleeted in from time to time, from criminals on bikes to mobsters all lit up like a novice on Summer’s Eve when they stumbled into the dimly lit lounge. Fortunately for her, those sorts of boorish patrons quickly scurried away when the nature of the proprietor and his more permanent patrons seeped into their bones.

At present time, Jeanne was sitting at the bar nursing about her fifth ‘whatever will get me the drunkest the fastest’ and it was, moon’s blessing, a quiet night. The Redgrave boy ( “Just call him Luka, Jeanne” played in her mind in Cereza’s mildly stern voice) plucked a more or less harmonic tune on a piano she had just noticed was there while Bayonetta hovered about with the occasional snark.

Rodin was standing a ways away from her, wiping a ridiculous glass of a size so small she was not entirely sure what was served on them. He looked as he always did, placid and composed but utterly unreachable, like an unfathomable entity trying to blend into a reality not of his own and failing.

And thus, was her reason for avoiding the Gates of Hell. Rodin was an enigma wrapped in at least five other enigmas and with a tale so tall, angels would squawk at the intrusion. Jeanne had not survived as long as she had without a Clan if she was stupid enough to get mixed in with the likes of him.

What she hadn’t been counting on was the Left Eye of Darkness barreling onto the scene like a train accident, with no memories of anything whatsoever and force her out of her solitude and good habits.

And her prison. (That she was forever grateful for but that was a definitely a reflection for another day)

Now, mingling with Rodin was frequent and she didn’t like it any better. He knew too much, talked too little and as the fifth…whatever she had downed settled in, Jeanne remembered there was something that had yet to sit right with her.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” Was what she found herself blurting, momentarily forgetting this was a person she did well to avoid quizzing too hard.

The faint squeak of the towel rubbing against the microscopic glass stopped and without missing a beat, he replied “Didn’t tell her what?”

Jeanne bristled, her better judgement clouded by booze and exhaustion which had the unfortunate side effect of bringing out her combative side. “Don’t play games with me. You could have told Cereza she wasn’t the last Umbra 20 fucking years ago.”

To his credit, he grunted and fished another of his inordinately undersized glasses to dry. She was about to shove one of her guns right under his perpetual shades when he deigned to reply to her. “There was no other Umbra to care about, at least not one Bayonetta should go tangle with.”

His eyes, a burning red behind the tinted glass, bore into her and she resisted the undignified urge to squirm in her seat.

She noticed Cereza had stopped ribbing the boy’s not terrible piano playing and was paying attention to their conversation. Far enough she couldn’t hear but close enough to intervene if needed be.

At his words, Jeanne growled and gulped her half glass in one go, slamming it back down on the worn down bar before the intense burn hit her throat.

She didn’t like being reminded of that but then again why had she asked? Her defensiveness had just skyrocketed into legendary levels and it was a minor miracle she wasn’t pummeling Rodin with her fists then and there. Probably because she made it a point to not fight with someone currently pouring her 6th drink.

“She didn’t need coddling, she needed answers.” Her tone was dark and low, to anyone else it would have a clear warning but he wasn’t the average entity.

“Puppets don’t talk truths, your highness, and the machinations of the Trinity of Realities are” he paused with a dramatic flair of his large hand that ignited several flames dancing around his fist in an erratic pattern “shall we say…Best left undisturbed.”

The anger simmered low on her chest with a building crescendo but she said nothing else and Rodin snuffed out his little display.

She breathed into the large glass for several beats, the intense mix of alcohol and Sheba knew what else burning her airways. So what, *so what* if she had been at Balder’s beck and call for literal centuries, hadn’t she earned her “Having Cereza’s Best Interest At Heart” badge well before that?

All the rational, perceptive parts of her had taken a walk at the moment and she was left alone with the raw, undiluted maelstrom that were her conflicted feelings and sheer, unaddressed trauma. Her guilt hounded her, her pride couldn’t deal with it and there she was, caught in the middle.

After the ever so mysterious proprietor turned his back to the bar to gaze at the rows upon rows of bottles stored as high as the dump would allow it, she spoke again.

“What of the guns then? You made them for me, as powerful and mastercrafted as any other the Smith Of The Gods had ever produced.” His back remained turned but the tension in his frame betrayed his attention. “ I doubt they are your magnum opus, all things considered, but they are exceptional and you knew what they were for.”

The rumbling chuckle surprised her more than what it should have, Rodin wasn’t a man famous for his patience or his sunny disposition. “As I said, who am I to stand in the way of events. I’m here to make shit and kick ass and luckily for all of you freaks” His eyes flared a deep, bright red when he turned back around and leaned into her bar space. “I still ain’t out of shit to make.”

As his massive, corded arms shoved themselves way too deep in her personal space, she frowned and tensed tighter than a hangman’s noose.

Fucker, timeless elder God wannabe or not, was asking for it and by Sheba’s infernal knickers she was going to give it to him.

Her ill advised motion to rise and distribute some well placed bullets was halted by a strong hand settling on her shoulder.

Cereza looked at her with worried eyes, searching as they often did for cracks to soothe.

Jeanne nearly growled at her, the frustration bubbling into a hot boil she couldn’t deal with but Bayonetta didn’t deserve it. Closing her eyes for a second, she leaned into her arm and did her best to center herself.

“Besides” Jeanne snapped her eyes open and glared with frank openness at Rodin as a hint of a smirk ghosted over his features. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Didn’t you get the girl in the end?”

The gated back section slammed open by itself, startling the hipster boys in the far corner that had been looking to bolt for the better part of an hour. Without waiting for her reaction, he disappeared just as theatrically as he has expounded on metaphysics and Jeanne was left alone with her turbulent thoughts and a worried lover.

“What in God’s name was that all about?”


End file.
